Spoilers: Season one to be safe.
Summary: Sometimes, Quinn wonders.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is not mine.
Author's note: This is unbeta-d. So all the mistakes - and I'm sure there are plenty - are mine. English is still not my first language.
A/N2: I'm working on Lucky, but this just wouldn't leave me alone. It's horrible, but there you have it. There might be a sequel to this. Might being the key-word.
Sometimes, Quinn wonders.
She wonders a lot of things, to be honest. She wonders how her life could've been had she taken different turns in the past, had she thought a little before making her decisions, had she thought nothing at all. She wonders if keeping Beth was a good idea, if she could be somewhere in a whole different situation had she given the baby away. She wonders if maybe she would still be with Puck if he hadn't gotten her pregnant. She wonders if her mother would ever find out her father was cheating on her if she hadn't gotten pregnant, if she hadn't been kicked out, with nothing but a duffel bag, at the tender age of sixteen.
Now, at the age of 22, Quinn can do nothing but wonder.
It's not that she regrets her life. She doesn't. She's happy, in some twisted way. Her mother made an effort – one Quinn would never think the other woman would be able to do – and quit her bad habits when she needed her the most. They had moved to where Quinn's sister lived in Chicago so she could have someone to take care of Beth when she had classes to attend, or had to work. It wasn't ideal and Puck often complained about the distance, but they made work. So in all honesty, life wasn't easy, by any means, but Quinn didn't feel like it was right to complain, because considering what she had been through, it could be worse.
Still she can't help but wonder.
And most of the time, she wonders about her.
It's been four years, but no matter how hard she tries, she just can't seem to let go. There's not one day when she doesn't wake up thinking about the little brunette who had been her entire world not even five years ago. Who – if she was being honest – still was, even if they hadn't spoken to each other in all that time. She knew that it was pointless to try and change that, really, because Rachel Berry seemed to be engraved into her skin, like a tattoo or something, and she just couldn't get rid of her touch, her presence, looming over her no matter where she went.
She wonders if Rachel thinks about her.
Is New York everything she hoped for? How is she doing, all alone in that city? Is she sitting alone in her apartment, thinking of what things couldn't have been? Wondering, like Quinn does all the time? Is she regretting the decisions she made, is she berating herself for thinking one city could bring her happiness? Could make all of her dreams come true? Quinn thought about these things so much she feared it was going to drive her crazy sometime soon. But she couldn't help. Try as she might, Rachel was all she could think about. She thought about little things, random memories of their time together, of the relationship they had. Of their love.
And she wondered.
There are a lot of things that cross her mind when she is thinking about Rachel. The thing that she wonders the most, thought? If Rachel ever thinks about her. If it hurts when she does, if New York was worth throwing their love away. In those nights she spends lying awake, she wonders if Rachel is doing the same, somewhere in New York, thinking about her, hurting over her like she does whenever she thinks about the things she could have right now.
She's never been one for what-ifs.
Now they seem to have taken over her life.
She wants to move past that. She wants to think maybe one day she'll be able to meet Rachel and look her in the eyes without feeling any kind of resentment towards the younger brunette. She wants to think that maybe in the future, if their paths ever cross again, they can be friends. They can have at least some portion of what they had in the past. She wants to think like that, she does, but then she'll spend nights awake wondering if they would be engaged right now, if they would be a family, and it just breaks her heart over and over again.
But she still wonders.
Maybe, she thinks, it's okay to feel like that. It's okay to be angry, it's okay to hold on to things that will never come back. What they had was intense. It was scaring. It was the best and worst thing she ever felt in her life. Rachel had been her first love. She is pretty sure Rachel will forever be her only love. And it frustrates her to no end that circumstances got in between them, that they were not strong enough to move past that. That they had been through so much together and then Rachel had left without even glancing back.
Something in her life is missing, and she's painfully aware of that every day she wakes up. They spent two years together, but Quinn has known Rachel ever since kindergarten. She had been friends with the girl for her entire life, even when her parents had forbid her to do so. Even when every single one of her friends called Rachel a freak and teased her for her unique taste in clothes, or the fact that she had to dads. Quinn had been there through it all. And then no more.
She wonders if it meant anything to Rachel.
Sitting there, alone in her apartment, she wonders if somewhere in New York, a petite brunette is doing the same, asking the same questions about her, wondering the same things about the choices they made in their lives.
The choice to leave.
The choice to stay.
The choice to give up everything they had.
Maybe she should have gone with her. Maybe she could be in New York now, curled up in Rachel's arms, Beth asleep in the next room. Maybe she could be seeing the love of her life taking Broadway by storm, maybe she could have a job that gave her more benefits. Maybe she could love someone and be loved in return. She thinks about those things every day, ignoring the pain that soars through her heart, ignoring how empty she feels without Rachel by her side. She's become good at ignoring things. But then again, she is a Fabray. It's in their blood. And even if Rachel is a little harder to ignore, it only requires a bit more effort on her part.
She puts on a smile, she pretends she's okay. People believe her.
But when she's alone at night, all she can do is wonder.
She doesn't think she'll be stopping anytime soon.
The thought is a bit comforting, as twisted as that sounds.